


Dinners With Dad (or, forced attempts at parenting)

by youngerdrgrey



Category: Queen Sugar (TV)
Genre: Gen, post-season one, season two
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-26
Updated: 2017-09-11
Packaged: 2018-11-19 03:52:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,426
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11305125
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/youngerdrgrey/pseuds/youngerdrgrey
Summary: Micah could do without these forced attempts at bonding with his dad. But, if he has to go, maybe he can use them to learn something. How to be a better person, or maybe just how not to act when you betray your whole family and ruin everything.[an ongoing experience]updatedwith a post-2x08 scene





	1. the first forced attempt

**Author's Note:**

> I started this during the hiatus between season one and season two. Since Davis is still actively in season two, I think it'll be nice to check in on Davis and Micah, both as a fanauthor and as a viewer watching canon develop. So here's a moment from before we got the show back. 
> 
> We'll start with Davis' perspective, next meal'll be Micah's.

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.

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**i.**

Davis grinds his jaw so many times that he can hear the crunch of his own teeth. They’re fine — the teeth — he knows they are; Charley had always insisted that they keep up with their dentist visits and family oral hygiene. Can’t be smiling to millions with a smile anything less than perfect. Unless it’s something cute and genetic, like a little gap that could have the fans going wild or something. She always thought about twenty things at once. And she’d tell him all that stuff too, usually in bed, or over some long phone call while he was in the gym. Now he listens to music when he’s working out, or podcasts when he just misses hearing someone else’s voice. It’d sound pathetic if he said out loud, so he mostly just doesn’t talk about his work outs anymore. Doesn’t talk about much other than the lines Miriam gives him to tell the press. Stuff like, _I’m really focusing on the game right now_ , or _I hate the way everything went down, and all I can do now is try to move forward_ , or _Charley’s fine; she’s taking some time with her family right now. Her other family. We’re still — we’re not officially in divorce proceedings yet._

“You’re doing the thing, Dad.” Micah glares up at Davis for a second before dropping his eyes back to the menu. “Wear your nightguard or something. It’s hard to think.”

Davis grinds his jaw again. “I _am_ wearing it. You’d know if you ever took me up on my offer.” Which he’s given at least ten times since officially agreeing to move to New Orleans. “Stay at my hotel a night or two.” Davis ducks his head to try and catch Micah’s eye, but the boy’s stubborn. “I’ve got great service out there. Five star chefs in the kitchen.”

“I’m good at Aunt Vi’s.” He flips over his menu. “Thanks though.”

“Well, let me take you out for something else. The food near the hotel’s—“

“I’ve had plenty of hotel food, Dad.” Micah huffs. "Plenty of all kinds of food around the world, and I still would rather eat at Vi’s. She puts sugar in the spaghetti sauce and always makes some without mushrooms so I don’t have to pick them out.”

He says that like restaurants can’t take requests, like whatever Davis could provide for him wouldn’t be enough.  Like this whole damn world has forgotten how he provided for his family for eighteen years before all this. And suddenly he’s not enough for anyone anymore? Not for the team who resent him for agreeing to leave, and the new team for him bringing his drama over with him. Certainly not for Micah, who has a whole family now and apparently has no use for his father. Fuck, he’s not even enough for his fans anymore; they only tweet him to ask what Charley’s up to and if he’ll ever be able to win her back.

Not that he has a lot of opportunities for that now. She’s too busy running around at her new mill with her new partner. Remy. Who does that guy think he is anyway? Some knight in shining plaid shirts? Did Remy even wait before swooping in on Charley? He wiped a few tears, held her close so she got used to finding comfort in his arms instead of Davis’s?

“You eat family dinners a lot over there,” Davis starts, “Just you, Vi, and your mom? Or…?”

Micah’s jaw ticks. Good. Nice to see the boy doing something that comes from Davis. He seems to like pretending they’re nothing alike now. Has his profile on private, but he’d still deleted a bunch of stuff with Davis before he blocked Davis from seeing it.

“Whoever Vi invites gets to eat. So everybody comes through.” His eyes have a glint to them, a warning that tucks right under his endless eyelashes (Charley’s feature) and tells Davis not to push any further. But if Davis only gets one meal a week, why not push?

“That Remy guy come too?”

Micah slaps his menu closed. Dares to stare Davis head on. “Yeah. And he sits right next to Mom when he does. Sometimes Ralph Angel sits on his other side and they bro out over farm stuff that bores everyone else. And he and Nova will walk around the land and talk about the ancestors that are everywhere. And one time —“ Micah juts up his jaw for this, grinds in to his words and the venom seeping out of them “— he cleaned up after with Mom, just the two of them, in the kitchen, while everyone else went out to see the lights in the garden. I don’t know much of what happened, but I do know it doesn’t take an hour to clean six sets of dishes. Is that what you want to know, Dad?”

“Of course not.” But it’s what he needs to know. His lawyer’s got all kinds of questions about his affairs, but what about Charley’s? What about her place in all this? He fucked up. He’ll own up to that. But she’s the one just giving up on them instead of fighting for their family. She’s the one out here with a replacement and a whole new line of work in seconds as if everything they built together doesn’t mean a damn thing anymore. “Your mother thinks she can do whatever she wants now. She’s out here rubbing him in my face and—“

Micah cuts in, “She could marry him tomorrow and it still wouldn’t hurt as bad as what you did to her. What’d you always say? ‘Hit ‘em where it hurts’ right? But we’re good people, Dad, so me and Mom could never do what you did. Can’t even dream of it.”

“It was one mistake,” Davis starts, but Micah won’t have it. He’s so much like Charley once he gets started. Doesn’t see anything in his blind rage and ambition.

“One _long_  mistake made up of about a million smaller ones. You had an affair, Dad. Multiple affairs. With who knows how many women in how many places.”

“You want numbers?” That’s not gonna help. That’s not gonna change what Davis did, or fix anything. “You’re no better than your mama acting like that.”

Micah shoves himself back into the back of the booth. “Least I’m better than you.” He grinds his jaw once before pushing up and out of the seat. “I’ll have Vi take me home.”

“Whoa! Whoa, hold up. Micah!” Davis calls a litttle too loud. Everyone who hasn’t been looking sure is looking over now. Older folks with their whispers, younger ones with their fingers ready over their keyboards and snapchat stories. The fast waitress behind the counter even drags her eyes away from Davis’s abs long enough to look scared. “Son. Please. Don’t do this.”

Micah bounces from one foot to the other. He’s still got good knees, the kind that could really support him if he wanted to keep playing. If he didn’t fault basketball for everything Davis has done.

“I have a question, Dad,” but that doesn’t mean it’s one he wants an answer to. The lick of his lips means he already knows it. The stank in his nose, the stone in his chest. “If I’d said that to you, during everything, would you have stopped?”

If Micah had seen him, or seen a text maybe. If he’d picked up Davis’s phone and gotten through the passcode to see Goldie confirming hotel suites and asking if he’d like it the same way this time or if he wanted to do something new. If Micah had stared forward (because Micah would never be able to meet Davis’s eyes after that) and pleaded for Davis to stop….

“I would’ve tried.”

But he and Micah both know what an attempt is. Both know that Yoda said it best.

Micah pumps his fist a few times against his leg before he says the quote. “‘Do or do not. There is no try.’” He unravels his fist to wipe the sweat on his pantsleg. “Thanks for the meal."

And that’s that.

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	2. #IMNOTANOWL

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Micah goes to eat with Davis again, but the subject of birthdays brings back memories of birthdays past.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Inspired by the birthday talk of 2x01, but this doesn't have any spoilers for the episode.]

 

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**ii.**

> _To Keke // June 14, 2016 (4:31pm)_  
>  **Micah:**  he keeps asking me questions. what do I want for my birthday, what is the family doing, if we should have a celebration of our own  
>  **Micah:**  as if I want to spend my birthday with him
> 
> _To Micah // June 14, 2016 (4:33 pm)  
>  _**Keke:**  You could do it the day before? He just wants to give you your present and see you smile at him
> 
> _To Keke // June 14, 2016 (4:34 pm)_  
>  **Micah:**  If that’s all he wants, then we could do that rn. skip the bullshit and just swap  
>  **Micah:**  uggggh  
>  **Micah:**  what if you just crash Boogie’s car into the diner?  
>  **Micah:**  that’ll shut him up!  
>  **Micah:**  then he can’t talk about the divorce, or what my mom’s feeling about the divorce, and I don’t have to go full Hermione on him
> 
> _To Micah // June 14, 2016 (4:34pm)_  
>  **Keke:**  Full Hermione?  
>  **Keke:**  You gon punch your dad in the face?
> 
> _To Keke // June 14, 2016 (4:36pm)  
>  _**Micah:**  no punching, just screaming I’M NOT AN OWL  
>  **Micah:**  but seriously, save me

“Micah.”

> _To Keke // June 14, 2016 (4:37pm)  
>  _**Micah:**  Drive the car into the diner, run me over in the process  
>  **Micah:**  pls

“Micah.” Davis sighs. "Come on, son, I’m talking to you."

That’s the problem. Micah stuffs that comment into the back of his mouth though. Glances up at his dad while he tucks his phone back into his pocket. “And I hear you.” But he’s not apologizing. There’s no point in saying he’s sorry when he’d much rather be working the farm with Ralph Angel than having this late lunch with his dad. But he’d already promised his aunt Vi he wouldn’t go off on Davis in public again. She’d claimed it was bad for business.

Davis crashes his jaw from one side to the other. “You don’t want to talk. That’s fine. We’ll just eat, and then I’ll drop you back at your aunt’s.”

“Thank you.” Micah’s phone jumps in his pocket, but he doesn’t pull it back out. Just grabs his fork and digs into his spaghetti. The second the sauce hits his lips, his lips quirk up. Vi always puts a little sugar in her spaghetti sauce, and as long as she keeps on undercutting the chefs in the kitchen, he’ll keep coming to the High Yellow. Or as long as his dad tries forcing these meals.

“Was that Keke? I saw her name on your phone in the car.” Davis smiles. “You two still talking then.”

They are, but, honestly, “I thought we didn’t have to talk anymore,” Micah says. Didn’t his dad just say that? “I’ve got a headache anyway.”

Davis sighs. “Fine. Fine, son.”

Micah glances back down to his food, but he can still see the way Davis twists the fork around and around without eating. The tension in his dad’s muscles along his arms. The throb of the veins in his dad’s neck that are just at the edge of Micah’s vision. But Micah doesn’t have to feel bad about that. He doesn’t have to tend to his dad’s feelings when his dad couldn’t be bothered to do the same thing for him and his mom. He doesn’t have to be the bigger person with a dude who is literally two feet taller than him. He doesn’t.

(Right?)

His phone buzzes again.

> _To Micah // June 14, 2016 (4:42 pm)  
>  _**Keke:**  I’m just saying, give him a chance and then call me when you’re done  
>  **Keke:**  You can yell all about how awful he is

> _To Keke // June 14, 2016 (4:43 pm)  
>  _**Micah:**  I’d much rather talk about what you and me are doing for my birthday

> _To Micah // June 14, 2016 (4:44 pm)  
>  _**Keke:**  And what do you have in mind?

A nice lunch, just them and his mom so his mom gets to see Keke as a full person instead of just a different girl that Micah’s interested in. And the lunch ends long before the family thing so he borrows the keys to his mom’s Range and takes Keke on a ride through the city. They stop by Grandpa Ernest’s house and settle under the tree — no, they stop at Vi’s house and go by the garden where they first met. He can show her the flowers that have taken root and point out that they’re a lot like this garden. They might be budding into something new, but they’re already something pretty great to look at. Then she’ll get all happy since he’s so sweet, and they can maybe do a little something before he has to take her home.

“You’re smiling pretty wide over there,” Davis says. He keeps his eyes low on his plate — he got the alfredo since apparently he doesn’t want the house speciality. “We don’t have to talk. I just — I remember being that happy over messages. I used to read the ones from you and your mom before taking the court. This one time—“

“Before or after the affairs?” Fuck. Shit. Micah’s supposed to hold it in today. “I mean, if you’re smiling over Mom, then before, right?”

Davis gives his fork another twist. “During.” He shifts it from one hand to the other. “But, one day, you two were in the group chat, just trying to drag me into some fight about whether or not you should be able to have a party at the house or take a few friends to Aspen for your birthday. Your mom figured you’d make less of a mess if you were somewhere up in the mountains.”

Of course the house in L.A. — their house — is in the mountains too. Micah used to fall asleep staring at the skyline and all the lights. Every once in a while, a helicopter would fly above them, rattling his cracked window, and now it’s just… quiet. The land is quiet. People might get their starts early, but there’s so much space between houses that people don’t make that much noise. No sirens, no gates swinging open, no camera crews.

And that year Davis is talking about was two years ago. Micah wanted a chance to be a normal teenager. You know, throw a big party, snap at his friends who get into the liquor cabinet, tape off his parents’ room so no one went in there to do anything gross. But his mom didn’t like the idea of just anybody being in their house, especially since so much of the house was glass and expensive furnishings. (“Do your little friends have the money to fix it all back up, or were you expecting us to pay for it?”)

“Yeah, I joked that I didn’t need a present if I could throw the party. The expenses could be my present.” He drew up a budget and everything, but Charley wasn’t having it.

Davis nods. “So I left the group chat and talked to your mom separately. Full on begging her to come on the road for a few days and let Rocky keep an eye out. We could hide the really good stuff. Put a brand new, reinforced lock on our room. Even tell the neighborhood watch to be ready for a ‘teen party.’”

“Wait, what?” That doesn’t make any sense. His dad got sick a week before his birthday. And his mom flew out to help Davis so that he wouldn’t have to leave the road or ride the bench. And she went to meetings. It was Micah’s idea to push the party up and capitalize on the moment.

“Oh yeah, we planned all that. Why do you think we got the pool cleaned before we left?”

Because it was summer and people just did that. “How was I supposed to know you threw me a party?”

“Because we love you. And you _really_  wanted to do it big for your first high school birthday. But, hey, what do I know about what you really want, right?” Davis switches his fork back to his right hand and picks up a bite of food. “Keke’s waiting.”

“Right.” Micah hits his home screen with a shaky thumb. 

> _To Keke // June 14, 2016 (4:50 pm)  
>  _**Micah:**  Lunch with me and my mom. That’s what I want.

Then Micah clicks over to another chat.

> _To Mom (Charley Bordelon-West) // June 14, 2016 (4:52 pm)  
>  _**Micah:**  You and Dad knew about the party? 2yrs ago?

> _To Micah // June 14, 2016 (4:53 pm)  
>  _**Mom:**  That’s what you two are talking about?  
>  **Mom:**  Why do you think we got the pool cleaned?

Damn. They really were good together. And now, they really won’t be together ever again.

Like, obviously his dad really fucked up. His dad deserves to be alone after what he did. Davis deserves to spend the rest of his life without anyone to come home to, and nobody should trust him after he left Goldie with all the guys from the team when that’s not something Goldie wanted to happen. Money doesn’t equal consent. Micah gets that. It’s just… they threw him a party. They raised him, together. They used to tag team parent him all the time. Like this one time when he was so mad that his dad couldn’t come to his game because of a press event, and his mom knew so she got his dad out of the event with a press release and an advanced Q&A thing, then when Micah ran out onto the court and looked over, he saw both of them cheering in the bleachers. His dad even still had his suit on.

Or when his dad helped him get ready for his first date. Micah couldn’t stop fidgeting and changing and staring down every single shirt in his closet to find one that wouldn’t make him look like the dorky kid from the back of the classroom. And his dad told him all about the first date that he and Charley had — how Davis was still trying to front and pretend he was this really smart, educated dude since he thought that Charley wanted someone like that. Thought Charley would respond better to somebody going places than somebody who mostly just had basketball going for him. But Charley’d caught Davis in his lie and told him that she didn’t have time for games, not if she was going to be taken seriously out there. She needed a partner, and if Davis couldn’t be an honest one, then there was no point in wasting their time. And she’d dropped a twenty on the table to pay for her food and walked out of the restaurant. Davis could barely drop more money on the table before he sprinted out after her. And Davis got this dopey smile on his face when he talked about his speech to win Charley back. But he’d given a speech about trying to be the kind of guy she deserved, and she’d eventually told him to just be himself. And then the real Davis — the Dad Davis who was helping Micah get ready — pulled out this plain green shirt that Micah spent most of the time lounging around in and told him to wear that. And Micah did. And he had a really great date.

“Dad?” Shit. He probably shouldn’t even say anything. He’s just caught up in nostalgia. It’s stupid. “Breakfast wouldn’t be so bad. You know, on my birthday.”

Davis’s whole body goes soft while his eyebrows lift up. Eyes brighten to the point where Micah needs to glance away. “I would really like that, son. Anywhere you want.”

What if he wants to go back to L.A.? 

What if he wants to go back in time to before they knew about everything and everything changed? What if he just really wants his family back?

Micah clears his throat. “I’ll think about where. Let’s just finish this, okay?”

“Okay."

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	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Micah doesn’t take well to the thought of Davis with another woman.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the mid-season finale reminded me that I never shared this moment and have another two drafted that popped up throughout the season. this particular moment takes place within the first three episodes of season two.

 

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**iii.**

Micah’s room at his dad’s place definitely beats crashing at Aunt Vi’s, or at Grandpa Ernest’s house. He has this window that looks out into the city and almost reminds him of his view back in L.A. (But the windows in LA all let out over mountains, with little specks of cars riding down winding roads and glimpses of endless cities below.) But his mom’s not here like she used to be, so it’s just Micah in his room and his dad, wherever it is that Davis decides to wait him out at.

Last time Micah stayed over, it wasn’t even on purpose. He was decorating the room and sat on the bed to call Keke. Wound up dozing off and woke up to hear his mom and dad arguing about whether it’d be right to wake him up. He’d just stayed quiet until his mom gave in, said she’d back for him in the morning. But this isn’t the same sort of tug of war condolence sleepover. This is the beginning of him having two bedrooms, two completely separate lives in the same city. And yeah, he’ll only have to cart stuff back and forth from here and wherever Mom moves to, but he’s never going to just have one home base again, is he?

“Hey, no, wait, you can’t.” Davis’s voice carries on the walls in this place. Maybe it’s just ‘cause of how low his voice is, or maybe Micah’s on edge. Either way, Micah can hear his dad pretty clearly. “I’m serious. This is not the right time.”

“And why not?” A woman’s voice asks that. Not any woman Micah knows by the way. Micah probably shouldn’t listen to this. It’s probably some random chick who wants to screw his dad. Somebody who doesn’t care that the divorce still isn’t technically finalized or that Davis can’t be trusted.

“Because I said so.” Davis does that scoff he loves so much. “Y’all get so entitled so quick.” The girl repeats the _y’all,_  but Davis talks over her. "We met once. That doesn’t give you a right to come to my home. Now, if I want you again, I’ll call. Go on. Step.”

So this is it, huh? The other side of his dad. The side that cheated on his mom and bought hookers — er, sex workers — and didn’t care who he hurt in the process.

How can he just use women and throw them away like that? Like they don’t mean anything? Just — if this is how it’s gonna be living here, then Micah can go crash with his mom again. He’ll go back to Blue’s room until they find their own place. He will figure something out because he’s not listening to his dad just fuck random women and enjoy his newfound freedom.

Micah snatches up his backpack and shoves off the bed. He only gets to the stairs before he can actually see his dad. Davis hasn’t moved since closing the door, which doesn’t bode well for Micah actually being able to leave. Micah stumbles for maybe a fraction of a second, but then his bag bumps the wall, and then his dad does move. Spins around with eyes that barely show his surprise.

“Oh, hey, son.”

Micah pulls his bag tighter. “Hey. Listen, I think I’m gonna head out.”

Davis’s brows lift the same way Charley’s always do. Like they’ve got this matching look for _where do you think you’re going this late_. “Where do you think you’re going?”

“Mom’s.” Which might not have been the best thing to say since Davis’s brows only climb higher.

“For what reason?”

Micah shifts. “I just feel weird over here is all.”

Davis steps away from the door. “Weird how, son? That’s probably just you getting used to it. It’ll take some time, but we can make this feel like home too.”

Will the random women be a part of home?

No, he can’t ask that. He can’t honestly say that to his dad.

“I just want to go see Mom. Okay, that’s it.” He paws for his phone in his pocket. “I can call an Uber.”

“What you can do is go back in that room.” Davis shakes his head. “I have plans for us in the morning. There’s no point in you going somewhere now just to come back.”

“Then I won’t come back.” 

Which, apparently, is where Davis draws the line. His chin juts out, and if Micah weren’t still on the stairs, then his dad would be towering over him. It’s an unfair advantage in every single argument they have. Davis commands attention. He’s large and cocky, and everybody loves him until he stops loving them and does them wrong. And now, he acts like everything’s okay. Like the whole world should forgive him for what he did, but it’s not like a new loft can erase the fact that he’s a cheater and a liar and he buys people’s forgiveness. It’s not like nice things make people forget about how much they hate you. Micah would know.

Micah tries again. “Dad, can I just go? Please?”

“Tell me why, and maybe I’ll let you. Tell me why, and you can have anything you want.”

Micah should’ve just lied and said he was going to see Keke. His dad doesn’t question that. That part makes sense to Davis, you know, just women and relationships or whatever. But Micah’s not like his dad in that way. Maybe he’s more like his mom. His mom’s had this weird sort of thing with Remy for months now, and he’s pretty sure they’ve never done more than make out a few times. He doesn’t even think they’ve been on a date. His mom takes her time with new situations. She lets herself find her way into something new and sort of makes herself a home within it. And like how Remy makes it easier for his mom to be down here, Keke makes it _so_  much easier for Micah. And it’s not just about her being cute and smart and funny and probably the most real girl that he has ever talked to. She legitimately cares, about everything. About him and his relationship with his parents and how he’s handling the cops being rough with him. She really just… gets him.

Micah can’t throw her under the bus like that. He can’t pretend that all he wants is to see her when all he wants is to not see his dad.

He pulls at the backpack strap again. Talks to the spot behind his dad instead of meeting his dad’s eyes. “I heard that girl. I can’t…. You might be okay with living like this, and pretending that everything’s okay now that you and Mom aren’t together, but I can’t. I don’t want to pretend, Dad. I don’t want to act like I’m fine with you having girls over.” His voice starts building. Shaking a bit, and he swallows to steady himself, but it doesn’t fix it. “You’re not even fully divorced. You still have our family spread in the office.” Not hanging up or anything, still Davis had movers bring that over. He used to have hope. And if he has hope, then how can he act like this? How can he sleep with anyone other than Charley and expect for them to ever be normal again?

“Now, hold up, you just talked about your mom and that farmer of hers, so what makes me seeing somebody any different?”

Micah scoffs. “You’ve been seeing somebody for years, Dad. That’s the problem. You want me to trust you, and you’re still doing the same stuff that ruined our family.”

“Your mother—“

“Left you? Yeah, I get it. She should’ve. But if you regret that at all, then you should show it. Until then, I think I can just be somewhere else.”

Davis shifts this time. His chin lowering while he huffs out his nose. Maybe not huffs. He more exhales. Thinks over whatever he’s about to say and then asks, “And if I don’t? Regret it?”

The question hollows out whatever used to be inside of Micah. Carves out the words and the air and the organs until nothing’s there but this echo of the question. _And if I don’t?_ He grew up with two amazing parents in a great house in a beautiful city. _And if I don’t?_  He’s growing up in two small houses in another amazing city. _Regret it?_  He’s growing up with one amazing parent and one who never learns. One who puts himself over the rest of the family. One who somehow doesn’t regret imploding all of their lives and thrusting them into this stupid situation where everybody in the world knows more about Micah’s parents’ relationship than he does.

“I don’t know.” His mom went viral on Worldstar. There’s a Buzzfeed listicle that walks everyone through the story of the night and where everyone is now. Someone honestly reached out to him through his DMs once to see if he wanted to give a quote about how they’ve adjusted to their new life. Does none of this matter to Davis? Is it just about sex with random women and pretending to be a good dad now? “Can I _please_ go?”

Davis sighs. “I’ll drive you.” He turns for the key bowl. “We can get you something on the way. You should eat."

Feeding him won’t make anything better. “Thanks.” But Micah doesn’t know what else will either.

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	4. Don't Tell Mom

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first real thing Micah says after his confession is “You can’t tell Mom.” He might not be sure of a lot at this point, but he stands by that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \+ the next two will technically be out of order because I have the response to 2x08 ready before the response to 2x07. That one will deal with Micah's fragmented attachments to the Bordelon family, but here we are with Micah processing the after-effects of what happened on his birthday first. I found writing this chapter really cathartic w/r/t Micah in 2x08, and I wanted to share that with y’all.
> 
> so, **SPOILERS.** Don’t read if you haven’t seen 2x08, Freedom’s Plow, the mid-season two finale.

 

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**iv.**

.

.

He knocked all his shit over. He’s sitting there, head in his arms, his whole chest against his dad’s much bigger one. If Micah’s ever going to stop crying, then he needs to focus on something else. He knocked all his shit off his dresser. He threw something against the wall. He told his dad. He finally — he hasn’t told anyone else. Not Keke. Not his mom. Not even Nova, and she’s usually really good at listening to him. She doesn’t treat him like he’s some kid going through dumb kid stuff. She treats him like a whole person. But she’s not the one he broke down to. She’s not the one telling him that it’ll be okay, that they’ll figure out, that it’s all gonna work out, son.

“How?” He shouldn’t have talked. Talking when he’s crying like that is all snot and spit mixed together on his lips, and his throat’s chalk and achy at the same time. He’s not even loud when he says it, but his dad stops talking anyway. It’s a dumb question. Micah’s had weeks to think of how it’ll work out, and he’s still got nothing. Nothing fixes what happened. Nothing helps them move on as a family. Nobody even knows.

“First off,” his dad breathes so deep that Micah’s head moves with his chest, “we tell your mother.”

Micah jumps up. He crashes into his dad’s chin. He elbows his dad in the gut. He gets the fuck up because “You can’t tell Mom.” His mom broke down over seed cane getting stuck in a grinder. His mom’s dealing with losing the farm to Ralph Angel and starting over, and she can’t handle something like this too. She won’t even be able to help really. She’ll just break some more. 

His dad sputters. “Wh—Micah, we have to tell her.” Micah shakes his head, but his dad keeps talking. "We can’t keep this from her. She deserves—“

“Who cares what she deserves?” He doesn’t mean to sound angry, but “She wasn’t there. Neither of you were there.” His mom was at the family dinner without him. His dad was sitting around because Micah bailed on him to hang out with Keke instead. He was all alone. " _I’m_  the one who had to kneel in that alley. I get to decide what happens. I get to choose what we do with it.” If he wants to forget about it, then he’s going to forget about it.

His dad nods. “I hear you.”

“Do you?” He doesn’t want to be another hashtag, or another name in the list. He doesn’t want to have all the white kids whispering at his school, telling him that they support him and that they know that there’s bad cops out there, but not everyone will act that way. He also doesn’t want the questions about what he was doing and why he didn’t have his I.D. on him and why he didn’t just stay on the phone with his dad instead of flipping it over and hanging up. He doesn’t — gah, he should’ve stayed on the phone, right? Then his dad could’ve been looking for him. Or if he had a picture of his family in his wallet, or if the cop let him show a picture off his phone, or even fucking just Googled him, then the cop would’ve known, and none of this would’ve happened.

Micah looks up at his dad, but Davis isn’t even looking his way anymore. Davis stares off near the door like he used to look for Charley. Like he’s watching some ghost version of her that tells him how to be a good parent. She’s good at talks like this, ones about being the best version of yourself and fighting back against systems that count them out too soon. Or, at least, she used to be. Now she mostly asks Micah questions and waits for him to shirk her off. Sometimes, she doesn’t hide her disappointment quick enough. Sometimes, she gulps instead of swallows, and her nails pinch her skin because she clenches up so hard. But she gives him space. She backs down in a way that she never used to.

If she went up against the cops now, she could lose. She could scream and snap and pull out every lawyer in her pocket, but what will it amount to anyway? The cop gets fired maybe. A few more think pieces go up about how systemic racism still heavily affects people in the south. Then what? Other cops who think the same way will still be there. Other cops who hate him and his aunt, Nova, and his mom and his uncle and his dad and every other black person bold enough to not accept being treated like shit. So why bother?

His dad shifts his weight over so he can turn to face Micah a bit more. The tears in his eyes have all either fallen or dried up. “I want to hear you, Micah. That’s all I’ve been asking for. For months. Ever since…” He sets his shoulders and softens his eyes. “Ever since I messed up. I want to hear you, and I want to know you. I want to be there for you when you feel like no one else can be. And if you let me, I will never hurt you like that again."

Micah shakes his head. “You can’t promise that.”

“I can try.”

“Try all you want, Dad. You guys worked all the time before so that I had all this stuff. So I talk well. So I dress nice. So I  _am_  nice, but it didn’t matter at all. It hurt me in the end! It made things worse that I was like this.”

“Micah—“

“It did! He hated me for being a good person. He hated me for being there. And I don’t want to have to run to you every time I have a problem. I don’t want to be ‘Davis West’s son.’ I just want to be me. I want that to be enough. I just….” He’s just a kid. Kids are supposed to play around after school. Kids are supposed to take their tests and then throw their backpacks under their beds and never have to think about it over the weekend. Kids go on dates instead of going to community bail events with their aunts. Kids don’t have to do this. He just wants to be a kid. Instead of having to be a black kid.

“Then what do you want me to do?” Davis asks.

“I don’t know.” His voice goes up at the end. He shrugs. He sniffles. He hasn’t had to talk about what he wants in a while. He hasn’t had anyone ask him when they knew what he was dealing with. They normally just ask what he wants to eat, or which house he wants to go to after school, or if he wants to hang out with Keke or go to family dinner. But what does he want someone to do for him? What’s going to help him?

The talking helps. A little bit. The words aren’t trapped in his chest constantly anymore. The gravel’s not beneath his knees. It’s not just metal in his lips. And he has something to talk to his dad about that’s not the divorce, or the affairs. He can actually have a conversation with his dad.

Micah tucks his ear to his shoulder. He kind of rolls his eyes because it’ll probably sound dumb, but he says it anyway. “Just be here, I guess. Be here, and just let me be here too. Just let me — let me just be a kid. Here. Without worrying about everything else out there.”

His dad looks like he’s gonna cry again. He nods a few times though until the tears seem to realize that they can’t fall yet. He says, “Alright. Well, I think I want something to drink. You want anything?”

There’s some beers in the fridge. He doubts his dad means those though. “Some water maybe.”

His dad gets up off the bed with a little rock off the mattress. He reaches back and cups Micah’s shoulder. He squeezes like he’s trying to put something into words. Like,  _I love you_ , or  _I got you_ , or  _Don’t go anywhere_. He sniffles even though he tries to hide it.

“I’ll be back,” he says.

“I’ll be here.”

Micah tries to smile at his dad. His lips crack with the effort, but even that sort of makes him smile a little more. Makes him laugh. Makes him wish he were saying this over something else. After everything, he and his dad have a long way to go to get back to where they used to be. They could get there though. They really could.

.

.

.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Talk to me. What y'all feeling?


End file.
